


Smoke and A Studio

by PolaroidAndPastelFreak



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Multi, i wish i knew what to put here, the major character death isn't what you expect :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolaroidAndPastelFreak/pseuds/PolaroidAndPastelFreak
Summary: 1946 was a strange year for Joey Drew Studios. People were hired, people were fired, and people went missing. Matías Garcia had never paid that much attention to his peers, but when the head of his department and nervous boss Grant Cohen goes missing, he decides it's time to find out what the hell is going on.With the help of Vaughn Brooks, a story developer with a sharp tongue, Matías discovers something terrifying and darker than he could have ever bargained for.
Relationships: Susie Campbell/Joey Drew, Thomas Connor/Allison Pendle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Uno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matías comes to work. Things are normal. He meets the newest member of the team, Buddy.

Matías Garcia was running late. This wasn't the first time he had been late to work, but it sure didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. It hadn't been his fault! The way that he usually walked had been completely blocked off by roadworks, and he had to find another way around, which took a horrendous amount of time due to the twisting and turning streets of New York City. Eventually he stopped at the entrance to Joey Drew Studios, giving the building a once over. It was a large wooden and stone structure, and when Matías had first saw it, he had almost ran away out of fear. It was intimidating, but coming to work every day here made it seem almost like home.

Matías held open the door for a worker behind him, stepping inside to that familiar smell of ink and paper. He nodded at the receptionist, who gave one look at him and looked away. Nobody liked Matías that much, and he knew exactly why. He was a Latino man. Nobody liked Latinos in the studio, really. The secretary only found solidarity with three people in the studio, and either they were too old or weren't interested in a friendship. Even the women, whom he'd expected to get at least a _little_ sympathy from about being called slurs daily and being misgendered, took zero interest in what happened to him.

The male swung into the accounting and finance department, saluting Jacob from the art department playfully. Jacob saluted back in an equally cheeky manner, backing out of the door Matías had just entered from. Grant stood at his desk, slightly hunched over. It was at that moment Matías knew he had fucked up.

"Where have you been for the past half an hour, Matías?" Even the way Grant said it sounded tired. Matías was used to it, though. Grant was known to stay way overtime in the studio to catch up on taxes, and normally missed out on going drinking with most of the other workers. The younger male looked around, avoiding his boss' gaze. "Well, Mister Cohen," He began, "there was a lot of roadwork around my area that they hadn't told anyone about, so I had to find a new route to work." The silence was deafening. Matías knew from last time that whenever he was late, Grant would lecture him about time and having a schedule before going back into his office and holing up in there until their shift was over, if not longer (always longer). Grant eventually huffed, muttering something about young people being unreliable (despite only being 30 himself, which had surprised Matías no end due to the fact that Grant looked much older with all those stress lines and constantly furrowed eyebrows) and walking away to his office, slamming the door.

Matías released a sigh of relief, collapsing into his seat. He put his bag down, kicking it under the table. All it contained was his lunch (a poorly wrapped tuna sandwich and a thermos full of lukewarm coffee) and a journal, which was full of scribbles and ideas to present to the art department. Okay, _technically_ he presented it to Jacob, who ran the ideas along as his own, but it was okay, Matías didn't mind! He was quiet for the next hour as he sorted through papers and proof-read Grant's files. Everything seemed to be in order. As he was putting away the files in the correct order, Grant's office door slammed open, making him jump and spill all the papers out of the file. " _NO!_ " His distress was evident as he started trying to gather up the papers, Grant watching from the side. "Alright, Matías, I need you to take these down to Art for Miss Lambert. It's their expense papers, so if you lose these, it's coming out of your paycheck, and for goodness sake, clean up that mess at your desk!" His tone was exhausted, so Matías knew not to mess around and make things harder for Grant as he took the expense papers. He placed them at the side of the desk as he gathered up the other papers he had spilled, feeling the urge to cry. That had taken so _long._ Oh well, he would have to deal with it later. Disappointment burrowed into his stomach as he stood up, picking up the papers for Art and setting off.

He approached the elevator, flinching and spilling a few papers as he bumped into a friendly face from his own department (well, kind of. Finance + Accounting and Administration were almost the same and were interlinked anyway, so everyone just referred to them as Accounting in one). "Geez, Matt, you okay?" Harris, an administration intern, grinned at him, offering a hand to help with the papers. "Thanks." Matías passed over the small pile as he gathered up the ones that had spilled. Harris examined the writing on the first page. "Art sure is going down the drain, huh?" The male's New York accent shone through, and Matías gave a small smile. "I haven't actually read the expenses, but I'm sure it'll all be fine. Mister Drew will be able to solve this, plus Mister Cohen is great at his job. He's good with numbers, so I'm sure this won't be an issue." Harris looked doubtful despite Matías' faith in those higher-up in management. They made small talk, discussing how their families were doing and how Matías' journalism was coming along as they waited for the elevator. It was slow, and Matías was pretty sure it must have been an ancient relic, one of the first elevators in production. He was usually inclined to take the stairs, but honestly, he just didn't feel like going all the way upstairs to the Art department. While Matías did exercise, he wasn't exactly keen on it.

He pressed the button for Level G, also known as Level Ground, where the exit was and where most workers would enter. Matías sat at the back, leaning on the metal grate as the elevator groaned, pulling them toward the top of the studio. Eventually it came to a stop, screeching and making Harris cover his ears. "I think they really need to fix this elevator, it's jive how it runs." The male grumbled, putting his hands down. Harris pulled the doors open, letting Matías out before he clicked a button and the elevator started its slow descent once again. Matías looked up at the sign that read "Art Department" before stepping aside to let an artist past. He smelled strongly of smoke and Matías was pretty sure he caught a whiff of alcohol. Still, that was none of his business. The male shook off his surprise and continued down the hall toward Miss Lambert's office. It wasn't so much of an _office_ as a cramped cupboard, but the woman had always been proud of it. She had even persuaded Joey to get her own nameplate and boasted about it. It was all the studio had heard for weeks. He stopped at the door, about to knock when a young man barreled right into him. Thankfully this time Matías kept his papers in hand and actually stayed upright. He stared at the other boy, who was now rattling off apologies and excuses. "Hey, it's fine. I'm fine, see? Just an accident." 

The boy stopped soon after this, still eyeing Matías apprehensively. Matías had never actually seen this kid before (could he really call this guy a kid when he was only 23 himself?), and it showed in his expression, clearly, because he stuck a hand out and began to introduce himself. "I'm Daniel, sir, Daniel Lewek. I'm the, uh, gofer for the art department." Matías could see immediately how much Daniel disliked that word. Before he could say anything, Daniel interrupted once again. "But everyone just calls me Buddy, or Bud, so you can do that too, I don't mind." Matías didn't even know what to say. "Oh, well, first off, you don't have to call me sir. I'm only 23, you're making me feel old." He chuckled awkwardly. "I'm Matías Garcia, but you can call me Matt, if you want." Buddy nodded almost nervously (or was it enthusiastic?) before he rapped on the door with his knuckles.

It swung open, and Abby Lambert eyed the two boys with a raised brow. "Garcia. What do you have for me?" She asked coolly, and Matías scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, well, uh, Miss Lambert, these are the expense reports? Mister Cohen told me to bring them down." She took the papers from him and set them on her desk, and then she turned to Buddy. "Buddy, what do you have for me?" She asked, this time in a less cool voice. Why, it sounded almost friendly. Appraising. What Matías would give to be a kid again so that people weren't as mean to him and instead felt too guilty about bullying a kid. But alas, here he was, a 23 year old male with the worst body in the world and tanned skin, which automatically meant he was not welcome. Buddy shifted from foot to foot as he held out papers which Matías hadn't even realized he had been holding. "Here's the concept you wanted. Y'know, of Cowboy Bendy?" He was shaking, and Matías observed the interaction with curiosity until Miss Lambert turned to him and gave him a 'shoo' motion. Matías made himself scarce, shuffling back down the hall.

Buddy caught up to the Latino man, making him turn around in slight surprise. "You want to walk with me?" He questioned, to which Buddy nodded. "You're the first guy who hasn't yelled at me for bumping into them, so honestly you're the best candidate out of any of these people here." The young teen gestured around, causing Matías to laugh. "Alright, what do you want to talk about?" He asked in amusement. By the time Buddy presented an answer, they had reached the elevator. Buddy looked a bit off-put. "I guess this is where we part ways. I'll see you later, right?" Matías queried. Buddy shrugged with a half-smile. "Sure. I'll see you later, _sir._ " He teased Matías as he walked away, causing the older man to splutter in offence. The elevator doors shrieked as they opened, making him wince. A man stood inside. He was holding up a large projector and by some miracle, wasn't staggering. Matías stared, making the elder raise a brow. "Wha'cha lookin' at, boy? Ain't ya ever seen a projector?" He spoke through a toothpick, snapping Matías out of his slight daze. He moved in next to the man, murmuring apologies. The male waved it off. "No need ta apologize. I know not everyone can lift these things. They're heavy as hell, but, ya know. Projectors are kinda ma whole job." He chuckled, and then it hit Matías. "Are you Norman? Or, uh, do you prefer Mister Polk?" 

Norman, or "Mister Polk" as he had been dubbed, laughed. "Spot on, kid. I see ya listen to the gossip 'round here." His eyes lit up with the amusement, and Matías almost immediately felt at ease. "Norman Polk, but I s'pose you already know that?" The black man held a rough-skinned hand out, which Matías took gingerly. One firm handshake later, both men were feeling rather content with each other. "Matías Garcia. I work in the Accounting department for Mister Cohen?" He didn't mean to make it a question, but his voice nearly cracked and made it sound as such, so Norman perceived it as one. "Mister Cohen? Ya mean Grant? Man's too afraid of his own shadow. An' he's eatin' right of Drew's lap. He's like a little lap dog." He said darkly. Matías shuddered at the man's tone. Norman went quiet, sensing the discomfort of his new acquaintance. "This your floor, then?" He turned to Matías as they approached Accounting, who nodded a bit. Norman allowed the male to step out, giving him a slight nod before the screeching doors shut once more and left to another floor, presumably wherever the projector belonged.

Lunch and the remaining shift was uneventful. Matías looked up as a bell rung, signifying the end of everyone's shifts. Knowing Grant was unlikely to emerge from his office, he began to pack up, shoving his journal back into his bag along with his thermos, which was shit at doing its job and had only cold coffee in it now. He made his way back to the elevator, which he noticed he had used a lot today. He had been back and forth between departments with expense reports (he had avoided Sammy after giving him the report, knowing what it was like to be yelled at by the music director despite this whole report not being remotely anything to do with him), finally fixed the filing reports he had dropped and wrote an entry for his journal. He was quite proud, actually.

The male was surprisingly quiet in the crowded elevator, having been shoved right to the front against the grate. He stopped at the front door, punching his card out. He stepped outside, breathing in the (relatively) fresh air. It sure made a difference to smelling ink and machinery all day. Surely that wasn't good for his lungs? Matías turned. When he saw Buddy, he perked up. "How was your day?" He asked the teen, causing Buddy to look at him. "I spend all day running around doing _errands_. I'm _not_ an errand boy, I want to be an artist." His tone was serious, and Matías just nodded. They walked along in silence for a while, comfortable with such silence. Soon Buddy started speaking again, informing Matías he had to go to the left and not forward. They said their goodbyes, splitting and going their own ways.

All in all, it had been a pretty normal day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome once again to my fic! I'm planning on this to be quite long? I'm not sure how long, but definitely more than 10 chapters.
> 
> Tumblr: whydidijoinsomanyfandoms


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaughn ends up in a feud with Samuel Lawrence, the award-winning music director for the music department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably explain how these chapters will work. One chapter will be Matías (third person) and the name will be in Spanish, whereas Vaughn's chapters will be in first person in a diary form, and the chapter names will be in English.

**15 July 1946**

Today was rather eventful. Now, I'm normally rather docile. Peaceful, even. I don't talk. I don't argue. But when presented with an _idiot_ and his equally idiotic ideas, I don't handle it well. I'm not exactly known around here for having a short temper, but Samuel Lawrence sure knows how to bring that side out of me. 

Sammy Lawrence has won awards. He writes beautiful music, jazzy music, any kind of music - the kind of music that gets your feet a-tapping and ears a-tingling. But Sammy Lawrence is also an insufferable bastard with an ego the size of the fucking ocean. He believes that he alone keeps the music department on its feet, and although that might be true, it does him no good knowing it.

So when he decided he would try and lord it over me today, I put him in his place. I even had that janitor, Wally (I think?), backing me up. Sammy apparently has blown a fuse at too many people, and it put him in a strop. It all started when I went to the music department with some concept sketches. Abby wanted Jack Fain (a lyricist? It really don't make sense why we have one of them. I thought the writers would take care of the words, but apparently not. I suppose Jack and Sammy might be a package deal. Rare to find both someone Sammy respects and will work with) to take a look and see what music he could come up with. Mr Fain was off sick today according to some of the musicians, so we couldn't go to him for ideas. Nobody likes working with Sammy, and that's a fact. I think the only person who puts up with him might be Allison (the new voice actor for Alice Angel), and that's only because she puts up with everyone, even that gruff GENT employee. 

I'm no genius, but even I could figure out when Sammy Lawrence was insulting me. He coats his words with sugar, but it tastes sour when you think them over. "I don't think I can come up with words for sketches like these," He claims, looking me in the eye. I didn't make these damn sketches, but I wasn't letting the person who made them take shit either. So I turn to Samuel and ask him directly, "What do you mean?" My words were sharp, and although my voice is quite quiet, I made sure to raise it a little.

It definitely garnered the attention of the musicians getting ready for a run-through of another piece. I'm honestly not sure if they'd ever seen someone stand up to their boss (and if they had, that person had likely either been screamed at or fired). Sammy was well-known for having fired one of his employees when they showed him he was wrong. Sometimes I really am glad I didn't take the job as a musician and instead went for story designer. 

To get back to the story, he raised a brow at me (which just made him look all the more bird-like) and frowned. "Well, the sketches are, in short, quite terrible." Even his voice was starting to get to me. So I turn away and say, "Well, I guess I can't work with someone like you, then." 

So Sammy crosses his arms. "Excuse me?" His voice had become snappy, a normal thing to happen when you talked back. The thing is, normally a lot of people would back down around now, but I'm not the type to give up easily. So I grit my teeth and respond with a very pleasantly worded "I can't work with someone so uppity and snobby. And definitely not with someone who snaps at the slightest thing and thinks he's the best person in his fucking workspace."

I think that might have been the moment I realized that I was practically begging for death. Sammy's face started to go red, and yes, this was when I realized I may have fucked up. But on the contrary, I'm not dead. Not yet. The glasses perched on the end of his hooked nose were beginning to steam as his breath became heavy. And yes, I laughed. I laughed right in his stupid sharp face and he started roaring, but I was halfway down the hall with those sketches and returned to Miss Lambert.

The look on her face was priceless when she heard Sammy yelling at me from downstairs. I was quick to flee back to my desk and hide underneath it. Sammy storms in and he looks Pissed. Yes, pissed with a capital P. He starts yelling at Miss Lambert, demanding to see the "insolent little bastard who needs a talking to". Even a toddler could come up with an insult better than _that._

She told him that she had no idea where I was. Good on her! So he storms off, still angry and probably off to bother the poor people in the Story department, whereas I'm hiding under my desk and watching as Wally Franks walks in. Wally is the janitor (or maybe it's Norman, never bothered to learn his name properly) around here at Joey Drew Studios.

So when he ventures over to my desk and pops his head under, I'm just as shocked as you are. But then he starts saying stuff about how he'd like to talk to Sammy the way I did, and how fuckin' brave I must be! I must admit, I did like that praise. Miss Lambert was speechless. And on top of that, I didn't even get a warning.

Maybe I'll steer clear of Sammy from now on, though. Might find my own head torn from my shoulders if I get in his way.

Drew is calling. The hell could he want?

\- 𝙑𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙣


	3. Tres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matías encounters a very angry Sammy, and sets out to find who could have made the music director so mad.

If anyone had been at the brunt of Samuel Lawrence's wrath, they knew it was a horrid and traumatic experience to endure. Matías knew that much after spilling ink on a music sheet by accident, so when he came across the music director the day after he had met Buddy, sitting in his office and stewing in some sort of misery slash anger, he had to know what had made him so mad. He knocked on the door, causing the blonde's head to jerk up with a scowl. "Come in!" Even his voice was a snarl, every word punctuated with venom. Matías didn't really know if he _wanted_ to go in, frankly. He realized quickly that making Sammy wait would only further his anger, so he entered quickly and shut the door quietly.

"Mister Lawrence?" The brunette's voice was timid, and he certainly didn't paint a picture of confidence with his hunched posture and fidgety hands. Samuel raised a brow, as if telling Matías to get on with it. Matías took a breath before starting to speak. "I noticed that you're, uh, a bit...angry today, and I wanted to know if I could help." He cleared his throat afterwards while Sammy got up from his desk. There was a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. He approached Matías, making the male step back in what could be taken as fear, or intimidation. "Garcia, you are in no way from my department. What help could I get from _you?_ "

Matías thought for a moment before opening his mouth to speak once again. His voice was clearer this time, and evidently he was only trying to be helpful. This made Sammy relax ever so slightly. "Well, Mister Lawrence, I could help you resolve whatever the issue is. And maybe I could help you calm down, or fix the papers, or whatever else you need help with." His eyes were earnest, and as Sammy examined him, Matías noticed that the male was slowly relenting. "Garcia," Sammy began, "if I let you help me, will I regret it?" He crossed his arms, staring down the tanned boy. Matías hesitated, and then shrugged. "We'll just have to find out, sir. I just want to put you maybe in a better mood. After all, there isn't much to gain from being _enfadado,_ right?" He noticed Sammy grimace at his use of Spanish, so made a mental note to not do that again.

"Find the Brooks woman from Animation, bring her to me. She's going to pay for what she said." Sammy's voice dropped to a threatening growl. Matías nodded hurriedly and left as quickly as possible. Alright, Animation. He knew where that was. He'd been there just yesterday, after all. The male approached the elevator, stepping away as a man stepped out, nodding at Matías with a cheeky grin. Matías raked his mind for whoever the man was before his eyes fell on the familiar bowler hat. Jack Fain, that's who he was! A lyricist for Sammy Lawrence, and surprisingly he wasn't as bitter or sarcastic as the other man - no, Jack Fain was a kinder man with a daughter he liked to bring into the studio to show around where he worked. Matías only knew that because he had heard people cooing over the little girl last time, but there had been a fair few people there and Matías hadn't wanted to disturb them. He gave a smile back, stepping into the too squeaky piece of machinery and waiting for it to ascend.

When it finally stopped at Animation and destroyed anyone on a ten foot radius' ears, he took a few steps toward the animation department before stopping. He could hear singing. And honestly, it sounded _heavenly._ Matías hesitated as he made a decision, and made his way towards the singing. 

_"I'm just a lonely angel , sittin' here on a shelf. At times it seemed, if I just dreamed, I'd not be by myself ...~"_

It was an attractive voice, feminine and soft but...somehow, there was a sadness there that almost couldn't be described. Hell, if Matías hadn't been extremely 100% certifiably homosexual, he would have even said it was enough to fall in love with. He peeked into the room where it was coming from, and was quite surprised to find Miss Susie Campbell. His eyes widened a bit, and she stared back like a deer in headlights. Both of them launched into explanations at the same time, trying to talk over the other before realizing they just weren't going to get anywhere with doing that. Susie looked sheepish as she gathered up her handbag. "Sorry." She murmured, trying to move past him. "Miss Campbell, wait!" Matías blocked her from leaving, which made her jerk back, trembling slightly. Matías scratched the back of his neck. "Miss Campbell, why are you leaving? I thought you voiced Alice?" His voice had a tone of confusion, and it turned even more confused when Susie began to tear up. "Oh, it's fine, Matías. Don't worry about me." She gave a watery smile, which didn't convince Matías at all that she was okay. He put a hand on her arm. "Miss Campbell, please. What's going on?" He insisted, but Susie just sighed. "Let's answer that question together. Why are you in the department? I thought you worked in Accounting with Cohen?" She sent a glance to the elevator nearby. Matías shrugged. "I'm doing a job for Sammy, ma'am." 

Susie chuckled. "Stop calling me 'Miss and 'ma'am', you're making me blush." Finally she was smiling properly, but the tearstains on her cheeks were what prompted Matías' next question. "Susie, why are you crying?" He was just concerned for her, and definitely didn't expect the answer he received. "There's been a few...difficulties with my role and Mr Drew." Her voice became choked. "I'm going to a meeting just now with him." She made her way around the Latino, who still looked a bit surprised. She turned suddenly, "Oh, and Matías? Tell Sammy I know it wasn't his fault."

And then Miss Campbell was gone, leaving Matías both puzzled and worried. He stayed still for a few moments, processing exactly what Susie had said before remembering his job. The male left the room, shaking his head. That had been...confusing, certainly. What had Sammy done to Susie? Had he fired her himself? Matías shrugged it off, storing the task given by Susie away at the back of his mind as he moved on with the current one - finding someone with the last name of "Brooks". He ventured further into art, knocking on Miss Lambert's door. He sure hoped that he wasn't annoying her with the amount of times he had been down here within the last few days.

She opened the door, an eyebrow raised. "Garcia, what do you want?" Her tone was sharp, making Matías nearly flinch. "Hi, ma'am, I don't mean to bother you-" Her look definitely said he was bothering her, "-but I was wondering if you had anyone by the name of Brooks in your department?" The name sparked something in Miss Lambert, by the looks of things, as she stepped back a little. "What do you want with Vaughn?" She sounded less guarded now. Matías answered with a shrug, "Sammy wants, uh, them." He wasn't sure if this Vaughn was a male or female, and their name certainly didn't betray anything.

"I'll send them down." It appeared even Miss Lambert didn't know the gender of Vaughn. Matías wondered how that was possible, at least until said character developer poked their head in the office. "Miss Lambert? The animators are fighting again." Matías didn't know who they were until Miss Lambert smiled a little - "Speak of the Devil and he shall appear, Vaughn. We were just discussing you - Mister Lawrence wants you? Perhaps Mister Fain is back to put music to that scene I gave you. Would you mind taking it down for him?" She pushed a sort of book or file towards Vaughn, who now looked a little irritated. "Abbie-" They started, earning a sharp glare from Miss Lambert. "Sorry, Miss Lambert, you know Sammy has it out for me right now. Why would you send me down there? All that's going to happen is that I'm going to get yelled at, more than likely in front of his little orchestra."

Matías had observed a few things about Vaughn so far: the first thing was that their clothing, appearance and voice deceived nothing about them for their gender. It was all neutral, just some suspenders and a shirt. Normally that was a man's clothing, but then their hair was slightly longer than any man Matías had seen, but then _again,_ their voice was a completely neutral pitch, so he still couldn't tell! He clearly looked puzzled, as the person turned towards him with a grin. "You look confused." They quipped. "Something the matter?"

Matías was speechless, unable to phrase what he really wanted to say - "hey, what the _hell_ is your gender?". But he knew that would be too rude, so he didn't say it. "Um- just...daydreaming?" He mumbled, making Vaughn snicker. "Alright. I'll be down in music getting yelled at, see ya." And with that, Vaughn darted off down the hall holding the file full of scenes and a projector tape for Jack Fain. Matías struggled to comprehend what had just happened. "Well, Matías. You've done your job." Miss Lambert nodded with impatience, ushering him out as she moved forward. He stumbled out into the hall, barely having time to turn around and thank Miss Lambert for her time before the door was shut in his face. How rude.

Matías started walking down the hall, still in a little bit of a daze. Who on earth _was_ Vaughn? He made a mental note once more to find out. Then his last mental note slapped him in the face - he had to go and see Sammy, and then he had to give him the message from Susie! He seemed to perk up, snapping out of his daze. There was no time to lose, it sounded like Susie needed this message to be delivered. He made his way down to music, and instead of using the elevator, actually took the stairs. The elevator had begun to make weird sounds when he had went down it recently, and he wasn't taking chances. Matías paused as he heard the yelling outside of the hall, with a sign above that indicated 'RECORDING'. The sign flickered off, and the yelling continued.

Matías was about to turn around and hightail it, but he heard a few banging noises from upstairs. He peered up, and it was nearly pitch black up above. Matías wasn't sure whether the person up there was stuck or what, but he wasn't about to let them suffer if they were. He cautiously made his way up the steps, nearly falling back down them as a tired and inky face appeared. "Matías?" asked Norman Polk, wiping the ink away that was dripping into his eyes. Matías stared. "Mister Polk-" He started, but was cut off. "If you're askin' about the ink, kid, I ain't answerin'. Mister Drew can answer for that." He growled, making the Latino flinch. Norman's eyes softened at this. "Aw, nah, Matt. I didn't mean it that way. 'ere, walk with me." The man gestured beside him, and Matías scurried to his side. There was a comfortable silence between the two as they descended the stairs, the slow drip of ink continuous as Norman kept wiping it away from his face. He truly was drenched.

They reached the bottom and Norman looked about, frowning. "Sam's yellin' again." He stated with a less than happy look. Matías nodded. "Yelling's kind of his thing, isn't it?" He chuckled nervously, which was met by Norman's own laughter. "Ya have some guts, kid. I like it. Not many people like ta say about Sammy Lawrence and his yellin'. Lotta them try ta ignore it. It's damn near impossible, though. Once he's started, he won' stop for a good ten or so minutes, ya know?" Norman flicked a glob of ink off his shoulder. "Anyways, I'll be off to tell Franks 'bout that broken pipe." Norman tipped an imaginary hat at Matías before he butted in.

"Wait, Mister P- _Norman_ , who's Sammy yelling at?" He asked quickly. Norman shrugged. "Some animator. They sure made him mad." The dark-skinned male turned and continued walking away from Matías, leaving the boy to ponder if he should really enter the studio and risk enduring Sammy Lawrence yelling at him. He hesitated before sighing, approaching the door with the sign above it. He pulled the creaky door open, poking his head in. The musicians had gone silent, staring as Sammy roared at...Vaughn, as predicted. Sammy's head whipped towards him so violently that Matías nearly ran away. He fidgeted with his shirt as he stepped through.

" _What._ " The music director seethed. Matías cleared his throat. "Well, I sent Vaughn down, sir, but I ran into Miss Campbell on the way up and she said I had to tell you something." He tried his hardest to look earnest, and he supposed it must have worked, because Sammy approached him with less aggression than he had been showing with Vaughn. The blonde stopped when he was just a few feet away from Matías, leaning in with a sigh. "What did she say?" If Matías hadn't been so unsure, he would have said Sammy had actually _cared_ about Susie. He repeated Susie's message to Sammy - "She said that it wasn't your fault." If Matías had been paying more attention, maybe he would have noticed the tremble in Sammy's voice, or the desperation in his eyes. Sammy looked away. "Alright." His voice was soft, and he waved Matías away. "And take that animator with you. I've had enough of their insolence."

Matías looked to Vaughn questioningly as they walked over, hands in their pockets nonchalantly. "Shall we go, then?" They prompted, watching as Matías scrambled to open the door. They were a few inches apart in height, with Vaughn being slightly taller. He held the door open for them, murmuring an apology. Vaughn walked through the department towards the stairs to art almost jauntily. "Why are you so cheerful?" Matías blurted. Vaughn stared at him for a few moments, and it made the Latino wonder if he had said something wrong, but after a few moments of awkward silence Vaughn answered. "Because Sammy thought he won. He didn't. You made him almost cry."

And just like that, it was over as Vaughn flounced away up the stairs. Matías looked bewildered as he nodded slowly, although he wasn't entirely sure why he was nodding in the first place. He wandered towards the elevator, mulling over what had just happened. Had he really almost made Sammy cry? Was that his fault? Why would Sammy have been crying at such a simple message? And why on earth was Vaughn hellbent on getting into trouble?

All these questions could be answered tomorrow, because Matías realised it was time to clock out as he advanced along the hall to his desk. He packed away his things, listening quietly at the door of Mister Cohen's office. It sounded like... _crying?_ The male hesitated before brushing it off, calling through that was he was leaving now.

Grant didn't come to the door or respond, so Matías just left. Maybe he was busy.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaughn recounts their meeting with Joey Drew, and ponders on Sammy Lawrence and Susie Campbell's relationship.

** 19th July 1946 **

"Brooks, you've gotten yourself into more trouble than worth it this time!"

Sammy's words stuck with me when I began to think about them, you know? I think he was quite right. After that meeting with Mister Drew, I think I _am_ in more trouble than worth it. I'm in way over my head, and yet I don't have a clue in hell what I've gotten myself into in the first place! It's a little worrying, I won't deny. But hell, you won't know what I'm talking about until I write it, right? So here's a quick recount over what happened when I went for that meeting with Mister Drew:

I headed downstairs to his office, and everything seemed fairly normal. I mean, administration was busy as usual, and the corridors were bustling. I saw Grant poke out of his office, a rare occasion for those who knew him. He seemed scared. I ignored that, of course, because I don't enjoy prying into people's business. As I continued down the corridor, I noticed that it began to get quieter and quieter, until all that was heard was the flow of the pipes. Mr Drew doesn't enjoy noise. I don't either, but this was...eerie.

You know the kind of silence you get in a horror movie, like Son of Frankenstein? That was the kind of silence I was greeted with in the corridor down to Mr Drew's office. I knocked the door, and it was like when the violins reach a climax and they're all tense and shrill, and then they stop. "Mr Drew?" I called in tentatively, and the door swung open. I've never liked the look of Mr Drew. He looks like the kind of guy you'd expect to see in the back of a bar, eyeing up pretty ladies and trying to grope them. But he's not. He's almost the exact opposite of that - running a cartoon empire for children. It's ironic, really.

He welcomed me in with that sleazy smile of his, and I don't believe I've ever felt more uncomfortable in my life. He offered me a seat, and of course I took it. I might be cautious, but I'm not rude. The windows were shut, curtains drawn, and the only light came from a small desk lamp. He adjusted the brightness with the dial on the lamp, lighting the room up further as I squinted, letting my eyes adjust to the light. He leaned in, and I flinched back slightly, which just drew a laugh from him. Ha, get it? Drew? Whatever. He seemed to take delight in my discomfort, which honestly made me a little irritated. But to be fair, when am I _not_ irritated at people (especially idiots)?

He offered me a cup of tea, and I shook my head. The tea would just prolong the time I had to spend in here, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I think anybody who stepped into that room - alone especially - would have felt the same as me. Joey Drew doesn't exactly give nice guy vibes. He placed his arms on the desk in front of him, examining me. I felt naked under his gaze, which was a terrible feeling. It wasn't the 'sexy' kind of naked, either, which in hindsight makes me feel a lot worse. I think that would have been better - at least I would have gotten a promotion, you know?

He started speaking, and his voice made me shudder from the _intent_ behind it. "Vaughn, you're a dedicated employee here at the studio," he started, "but we can't have employees meddling in issues that don't concern them." My thoughts immediately went back to making Sammy mad, but why would Drew call me here? I cast my mind even further back, and I landed on really only one answer - the new ink machine. I don't know how he found out I'd seen the plans, but he wasn't happy that I had. But I swear, when I saw those plans? I thought I saw the word _"sacrifice"._ Yeah! Sacrifice! As in something cults do! I don't know if Drew knew I'd seen that word at all, but going by his expression, he had never even wanted me to lay eyes on it - at least until it was built.

Mister Drew then started prattling on about the code of conduct and health and safety, some sort of agreement, job contract being non-disclosure, et cetera. Then he shooed me off, and he might as well have given me a lollipop and a sticker going by how childish he was treating me. 'You've been fantastic today, Vaughn, what a good person, so great, your mummy will be so proud!' (Obviously he didn't say most of that, but he might as well have.)

The ink machine has been off-limits since that meeting, and I've heard a lot of construction going on. Guess since Joey knew I'd seen the plans, he had to get to work straight away. That man will be the death of me, I know he will.

On a brighter note, I ran into the little Matías kid again. He seemed so stressed out, and he was way dirtier than usual. When I asked what happened, he said something about ink and some Polk guy. I've heard about Polk and spoke to him, but I've never actually gotten to know him. He's like the resident dad friend, he likes to make sure everyone is alright and happy. I remember my first day at the studio - I took a panic attack due to the overwhelming smell of ink and people, and I hid in the projector closet. He found me there, and he sat with me until I had calmed down and was ready to punch in. He was nice, that was for sure, but I haven't ever gone out of my way to speak to him unless for work purposes.

Vaughn's List of Things To Do

  * Talk to Norman Polk out of my OWN time
  * Check in with Matías and make sure his clothes aren't ruined
  * AVOID JOEY DREW AT ALL COSTS!!!
  * Find out why sacrifice was written on those plans (like why on the ink machine plans??? makes no sense)
  * Talk to Jack Fain for Abbie about those storyboards
  * Also avoid Sammy if possible



List of things to do, updated, and I should have it done within the month. It's nearly my birthday, on that note. I'll need to save up to get better pencils and pens for writing. Maybe Richie will come through and get me some, I'm friendly with him (I think?). Hell, I might get Buddy something if I get any money for my birthday.

Anyway, it's 11PM. I should sleep before I end up staying up all night.

\- **_Vaughn_**


End file.
